


Crossed Wires

by cthulhu-hungers (cherubiumangles)



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: BDSM, F/M, Kink, M/M, Sadomasochism, Spanking, sm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-21
Updated: 2011-06-21
Packaged: 2017-10-20 14:56:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherubiumangles/pseuds/cthulhu-hungers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How a Sadist and a Masochist came to be. 6 pages of plot and a half a page of porn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crossed Wires

**Author's Note:**

> Holy shit, I wrote porn! Half a page of porn, but still, porn! This fic was written due to two personal observations I’ve made of fic in my experience; 1) there’s almost no fic written from the perspective of the dominant during a sex scene. 2) There’s very little SM fic. I mean, there’s “I’m getting spanked because I’m submissive” porn and “I’m getting spanked because I like getting spanked” porn and “I’m getting spanked as punishment” porn but no “I’m getting spanked because pain makes me hard/wet” porn. Thus, this was created.

…  
“If god is good, why is there evil in the world? Because God is a sadist.”   
…  
Frank’s thirteen and he loves messing with the family dogs. He doesn’t have a lot of friends, or siblings, so the family dogs are the only people he has to play with. He’ll jump on them, give them noogies, play-wrestle with them a bit. Get them worked up a bit so that they growl and snap at him. Sometimes he’ll be a little too rough and accidentally hurt them, and they’ll yelp and slink off. Feeling ashamed, he’ll give them a milkbone and scratch behind their ears until all is forgiven.

“You gotta be more careful Frank.” His mother says, shaking her head as she watches him mess with the dogs. “You don’t know your own strength.”

…  
Gerard’s thirteen when his strap slips off and he drops his guitar on his foot. He curses a blue streak (and a red streak, and a green streak, and a couple of streaks in colors that probably aren’t in the visible spectrum) and seriously considers destroying his guitar by jumping up and down on it for a spit second.   
It raises an impressive purple bruise on his foot that doesn’t go away for a week. Touching it hurts, hell, even looking at it hurts. The only time it doesn’t hurt is when he’s…well, distracted.

Like right now. He’s just sitting cross-legged on his bed, bruised foot on top of the other and leafing through his sketches in his boxer shorts (the AC doesn’t really reach into the basement in summer), trying to find something in his drawings to distract him from the pain.

Something- maybe the drift of the AC or the paper over his cock or something from the sketches themselves- gets him hard, one of those teenage boners that seems to have a mind of its own and Gerard figures, why not? It’s as good a way as any to take his mind off his damn foot.

He sweeps the sketches off his bed and starts to jerk off. He touches his foot, on accident, with his other hand and it still hurts but it also makes his dick harder somehow, so he really digs his thumb into the middle of the bruise and comes from the pain and pressure and the feel of his hand on his dick.

…  
Frank’s eighteen and he’s fucking Jamia, mouthing along her neck and the span of her shoulders and trying desperately not to bite down.

…  
Gerard’s seventeen and the rumor around the school is that he cuts himself. It’s not true. He does hurt himself, but not for the reasons they think.

When Gerard wants to hurt himself he numbs himself. He drinks cheap vodka from the bottle and downs prescription antidepressants like smarties. Pain doesn’t make him sad. It sound’s weird, but it’s true. Pain’s just a physical sensation. If he couldn’t feel pain his body would probably invent the feeling. It keeps him from getting hurt. And when it goes away it makes him feel strong. When he’s alone he wonders if he can make it to graduation. When he picks himself up after a punch he knows he can. When he’s in a fight he doesn’t think about it at all. It’s the numbness that makes him feel like a dying animal inside.

When Gerard wants to hurt, he doesn’t use sharp things, and he hates needles and blood. He’s very particular about the type of pain that turns him on. He was to be a little aroused first for that pain-dick connection to switch; otherwise it’s just normal pain. It’s not like he stubs his toe and gets a stiffie. He’s got his own ways to hurt himself when he jerks off. He pinches his nipples hard, and the skin on his balls between his fingernails; he smacks the insides of his thighs with the side of his hand and when he comes, he bites down hard on the joints of his fingers and the inside of his forearms and wrists. That’s where it hurts the most. But he can only do so much damage to his own body and he knows he can take so much more.   
Gerard’s scared of what he’s capable of.

…  
Frank loves Jamia so much he wants to hurt her. He wants to bite her tongue and lips when they make out. He wants to wrestle with her naked when they can’t think of anything else to do, the way the fuck on the weekends when they don’t have anywhere else to be, just because they can, because it feels good and because they want to touch each other and bask in each other’s affection. He wants to twist her arms behind her back as he digs his thumb into her shoulder as hard as he can for the same reasons.

When he’s extra horny, when he’s really fucking her, he wants to bite her neck when she comes. When she’s especially hot, like when she’s wearing one of his shirts and her hair and makeup are mussed up from sleep or sex, or when she has that glow a particularly good day gives her, he wants to do something special for her, like smack her ass until it’s red, then purple, then blue, and fuck her while it’s tender and hot and throbbing. And if his hand can’t hit hard enough, he wants to use something harder.

Frank wants to hurt Jamia because it makes him happy. But he doesn’t want to _hurt_ her. He doesn’t want to make her cry or break her bones or make her feel awful. He doesn’t want to do it if it doesn’t make her happy. And really, it’s not that he wants her to suffer or not enjoy it, he does. He just can’t imagine anyone who would enjoy getting smacked around just for the sake of getting smacked around. He knows she won’t like this, he’s asked girls before and they said no, and he can get off from regular sex just fine. He thinks Jamia would do it for him if he asked, but he doesn’t think he can enjoy it if he knows she isn’t into it herself.

…  
One of the magical things about college, Gerard finds, is that almost everyone there is an awkward basement-dwelling nerd too. He feels like the mothership’s finally come and taken him home to be with his own kind. Mikey texts him at the end of the first month asking what art school is like. Just to taunt him, Gerard texts back that everyone dyes their hair black and listens to Joy Division. That’s just how awesome college is. Gerard can almost see Mikey not-pouting all the way back in New Jersey.

Gerard fucks a lot of guys in college. It’s easier, and he bottled it up for so long at home it’s kinda bursting out now that he can indulge it. It’s easier to get guys to sleep with him, easier to find guys that aren’t looking for anything but a casual fuck, easier to talk guys into holding him down and beating the living tar out of him.

The thing about nerds, though, is that there’s a large overlap between kinky people and nerdy people. It’s on a drunken pot-fueled Mystery Science Theater 3000 marathon that he confides to his classmate Alice that he sorta, you know, likes to be hurt when he’s having sex. She cheerfully says that she’d be quite happy to indulge him. Next Sunday he’s at his first munch with her, talking about whether caning or spanking is more painful with a group of ren-fair re-enactors. It’s probably the most surreal moment in his life.

He spends the last two years of art school as Alice’s boyfriend-in-public, bottom-in-private. She never fucks him, (Gerard always suspected she had another boyfriend at home, but he’s not sure if this counts as cheating and frankly he’s far too terrified to ask, for fear that she’ll leave him and then he’ll have no-one to whip him until his back welts). But in the end, Gerard graduates and gets a job in New York.

It’s a tense goodbye. They’ve drifting apart for a while now, but neither of them want to admit it. She’s uncomfortable with the fact that he’s bisexual, and frankly he wants to be with someone who’ll fuck him. So he goes to New York to work for Adult Swim and tries to focus on his career and not his dick.

Then 9/11 happens, and the shock of seeing the towers burn is like a belly flop in a winter lake for his psyche. He realizes what he really wants to do with his life. All his life, he wanted to do art. It’s the only thing he’s ever thought he was good at. But he doesn’t want to do what he’s good at. He doesn’t want his life to follow a predetermined path. He wants to change the world.

…  
Frank makes damn sure that when she indulges him that he makes it worth her while. He smacks her ass and tells her precisely how he’s cheated on her this time- Which band member (Mikey’s fucking huge. It figures, something about those tall skinny ones, you know…), what they did (I made him suck my cock if he wanted to fuck me later), where they did it (really quickly backstage, during the sound check, so the instruments would cover their groans.)

It’s all lies of course. They’ve been together long enough that they’ve been able to really open up about what turns them on. Frank knows that Jamia likes to watch gay porn and used to read fanfiction in high school, and that one of the reasons she asked him out was because she heard about the time he made out with Tony Adams at a party. So when he comes home, he makes up stories about fucking the rest of the band to tell her while he fucks her rough. Both of them get what they want- fucking hot sex, the kind that he jerks off to when he’s on the van between gigs and the others are asleep.

…  
“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna have to bring out the stun gun.” Frank says to him one day.

“Promises, promises.” He can play that game too.

Gerard’s aware that he’s flirting with a taken man, and it’s just gonna get him hurt again, but dammit he doesn’t want to stop.

…  
Jamia wants him to fuck a guy for real. It started when MCR sold 20,000 albums in the first week and all the sudden Brain put down all his money for them to start actually touring, holy fuck, he’s not sure but he’s starting to suspect that this band might just be the shit.

Everything happens so fast he can’t even go home before the tour starts. Three months. That’s how long they’ll be touring away from New Jersey. That’s how long he’ll be away from Jamia. It’s during that time that Jamia suggests something they’ve been throwing around for a while. She tells him that he has permission to fuck his bandmates when they’re on tour if she can get her needs met at home. And if he tells her about it, of course.

She knows, even though Frank would never tell her, would happily go without for the rest of his life, that he’s holding back when he plays rough with her. That he could be a lot rougher with her than he is, than she could take. It’s sort of the ideal situation; Frank gets to be as rough as he wants when he has sex, and Jamia gets to picture him having sex with another guy.

Thing is, Frank doesn’t know if he can fuck another guy. He’s always been attracted to guys, sure, but he hasn’t acted on it since high school, and even then, he never got farther than first base. He can’t help but be afraid that once he gets another guy in bed, the feel of another hard cock against his going to be too weird, or will completely ruin the fantasy for him, or his head is just going to explode from worrying about it so much.

…  
They’re doing really, stupidly well on tour and Frank finally lets himself consider that maybe this is it, that My Chem is for real when Frank finds Gerard’s T.a.t.u. album. Frank is never gonna let him live it down.

“Just because they’re a pop band doesn’t mean it’s not good music.” Gerard says, already gearing up for sulk mode if Frank doesn’t give him back his album.

“Yeah right. You just like them for the lesbian action.” Frank smirks, tapping the cover- where the two lead singers are draped over each other.

Suddenly Frank has an idea. A brilliant, wonderful idea. “We should make out.”

“Here?” Gerard squeaks.

Frank rolls his eyes. “No, onstage.” Frank’s seen their audience. It’s…well, not entirely teenage girls. But there are a lot of them there.

“But…Why?”

“Because it would be fun? Because our fans will enjoy it?” Because I wanna fuck you, even though I’m not sure if I can do it?

“I don’t know. It’s seems a little…fake. I mean, you know, it seems kinda wrong to do it if it’s not real. Besides, what about Jamia?” Gerard makes grabby hands at his album.

“Do these look like real lesbians to you?” Frank says, holding the CD above his head only to have Gerard snatch it out of his hands without even stretching. Damn his short stature. Damn it to hell.

“Besides, trust me. Jamia doesn’t have an issue with it if you start making out with me.” We’ve done a lot more than that just in my mind, Frank mentally adds. Instead he gives Gerard his most charming grin.

Gerard looks completely pole-axed. It occurs to Frank that maybe he’s been a little too subtle and Gerard may have not picked up on the six months of flirting he’s done up on this point. “Yeah right.” Gerard says, looking down at his feet. “Like anyone would want to see two guys kissing.”

“You’d be surprised. There’s lots of girls who’re into that sort of thing.” Frank said. Ok, so he is flirting. Just a little bit. But still, mostly teasing Gerard about the T.a.t.u album, because really.   
“But do you want to do it? I mean, Frank, you’re a fucking amazing guitarist, and this is a fucking amazing band, I don’t want you to feel like you need to do crazy stunts just to…”

“Geez Gerard, there’s a reason I asked you. I want to make out with you. Because I like you.” Frank says, placing his hand on Gerard’s chest and pushing him down and following onto the couch. Still part of the teasing. He knows Gerard’s bi- he asked Mikey, and Gerard would have to be deaf, dumb, and blind to not know Frank is too. “But If you not interested, I can always ask Toro…”

And then he feels Gerard’s hand on the back of his head and Gerard’s mouth pressing hard against his. When they pull apart, Gerard looks breathless and dazed. “Ok. But I wanna talk to Jamia myself.”

Later, when Gerard calls Jamia, Frank can barely keep his laughter down. Gerard gets redder and redder and his stammer gets worse as the call goes on. Frank gets the feeling Gerard’s getting permission to do a lot more with Frank that just kiss him.

“Oh, and Jamia says she can hear you giggling in the background.” Gerard says after he shuts off the phone. Frank just grins back at Gerard.

…   
They’re past teasing now, past even flirting, and Frank is really laying on Gerard’s ass. He wants to hear him bawl tonight.

Gerard’s sobbing; screaming each time Frank gets a good whack across his ass or catches the back of his balls with the tip of the cane. He’s on his knees, head against the mattress and a puddle of drool and tears under his face, and Frank can see his thighs and arms trembling with anticipation for the next strike.

And his dick is hard enough to cut glass.

If Gerard’s dick could cut glass, Frank’s could put dents in concrete. Next time he’s not gonna leave his pants on because every rasp and twitch of fabric across his dick is fucking unbearable. Frank’s this close to coming in his pants like he’s thirteen.

But he’s can’t stop until Gerard gives in. That’s how this works.

“I’ll…I’ll suck your dick. Just please, Frank, fucking touch me…”

There it is. Frank reaches over to palm one of Gerard’s asscheeks, rubbing soothingly over the bruised flesh. Gerard whimpers, brows furrowed, because Frank knows that even though the touch is soothing it’s gotta sting like a motherfucker. He’s gonna have welts tomorrow. “But I am touching you.” Frank digs his thumb into one of the welts on Gerard’s ass. Huh. He didn’t know Gerard’s voice could reach that high.

“No, Frank, No…”

“Say it again.”

“Please fuck my mouth. Let me suck your dick, Frank.”

Fuck, if Frank doesn’t get inside Gerard’s mouth now he really is gonna come in his pants. He grabs Gerard’s hair and pulls him towards his cock with one hand, running the tip of the cane along Gerard’s cock with the other.

“Yes yes yes please please please” Gerard says chants mindlessly, probably not even aware he’s doing it from the glazed look in his eyes as he rests his hands on Frank’s belt buckle. Frank tugs him back a little by his hair because he needs just a few seconds. He’s so far on the edge right now he could come just from the Gerard’s tear-bright eyes, the little whimper he makes when Frank pulls his hair, and the nervous shake in his hands.

Frank wonders if Gerard’s mouth is always this hot and wet or just when he’s crying. Then Frank isn’t wondering anything at all.

…  
“Why me?”

“Hmmn?”

“You could have asked anyone on the tour. Why’d you pick me?”

Frank stares at Gerard while Gerard sniffs and wipes his nose on the back on his hand. His eyes are red from crying, his body’s wet with sweat, and his mouth is stretched and red.

He can’t really decide on single answer. He doesn’t have some kinda kinkdar that let him know that Gerard was a masochist; hell, he wasn’t even sure Gerard was bi until he asked Mikey. He likes Gerard for a lot of the same reasons he likes Jamia; they like the same music, the same movies, the same pop culture references, but so does Mikey and Ray and Frank isn’t trying to get into their pants.

“Because you’re just so fucking earnest. Every night you get up on stage and just sing, it’s like you don’t even care if there’s a crowd there or not. You just give everything you’ve got and you don’t even care if you get hurt.” It’s the same thing Frank tries to do when he’s on stage too.

Gerard grins. “That’s because I don’t.”

“Yeah, well, I see that now.” Frank says, grinning back.

…  
“Pain is weakness leaving the body.” – US marine motto.

…


End file.
